Status Quo
by arithnocrat
Summary: With Voldemort on the loose, it's time for the gloves to come off. New allies, secrets revealed, and a streak of independence a mile wide, Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts looks to be the best yet... That is, if he survives... ADOPTED BY SHINMOTO AMAYA.
1. Setting the Scene

A/N: Hi people! Here's a nice, juicy, AU fic for you, throwing the Muggle and Magical worlds on their ears. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does.

* * *

Harry Potter was currently breaking every known law of Magic.

He was using a laptop in Hogwarts Castle.

According to Hogwarts, A History, the immense amounts of magic in the air nullified all electrical devices. It was just as well, because Muggle and Magic should not be mixed. Even the Muggle Studies room didn't actually have any Muggle devices in it.

And yet, Harry had a Macbook Air on his lap and was typing away to glory. After several minutes, the corners of his mouth lifted. It was the closest thing to a smile he had come in several months. He leaned back against the wall, running his hand through his hair. Then he shook his head and began typing again.

Several hours later, he closed the laptop and cast a Disillusionment Charm on it. Then he placed his hand on where it should have been, and murmured something softly. He took the invisible object and lifted the seat of the bay window. Beneath was his secret cache. An iPod, a cell phone, his Invisibility Cloak, and an album lay nestled within. He carefully placed the laptop on top of them and lowered the seat back to its original location. He waved his wand over it once more and left the Common Room as the sun broke over the horizon.

* * *

"Harry, pass the butter, please."

Harry passed the condiment in question to his friend, Hermione Granger. Her hands were currently occupied tying her bushy brown hair into a decent ponytail. Beside her, a redhead was shoveling food into his mouth as if he hadn't seen food in weeks.

"Ronald Weasley! Where are your manners? Honestly, one would think you hadn't seen food in several weeks!"

"Magringby," Ron replied.

Harry laughed, "Leave him be, Hermione. You know Ron likes his food."

"That's true. Oh look! We've got double History of Magic this morning! Isn't that interesting?"

The Fifth Years at Gryffindor Table groaned. History of Magic was widely regarded as the most boring class ever taught at Hogwarts. Professor Binn's voice could lull even the most devoted Ravenclaw to sleep. Only Hermione was able to resist the soporific effect of the ghost's lectures. At least, that was what everyone thought.

In truth, there was one other student who remained awake through all of Professor Binn's lectures, though not always because he was paying attention. Harry had his laptop under the table during every lesson, covered by a simple Repulsion Charm, so no one would ever look to see what he was doing. He leaned back in his chair not only to appear relaxed and asleep, but also so that he could see the screen of his laptop.

Today was no different. Hermione's quill scratched furiously while he typed away under a Silencing Charm. In addition to breaking the laws of Magic, Harry was also breaking several laws of Biology, Chemistry, and Physics. His body acted as a signal tower, allowing him to access the Internet with better connection speed than found in most cities.

Currently, he was visiting the Grunnings website. Well, not so much visiting as hacking. It was the final stage of a three-year plan he had created that would lead to Vernon Dursley's downfall while leaving Petunia Dursley unscathed. For the horrors of his childhood, he still thought Petunia had it worse than he did, because she sat helplessly by while her husband beat her and the only remaining connection she had to her beloved sister.

When Harry was three years old, he decided to explore the house. When wandering into his Aunt and Uncle's room, he decided to climb up onto the chair and see what was on the big table. His Aunt and Uncle found him twenty minutes later and were not too pleased. The fifth time his Uncle's belt slashed across his back, he screamed "x equals twenty-five," scaring the living daylights out of them.

They looked back at the book. He was right. Even as Petunia's eyes were wide and fearful, Vernon's were cold and calculating. Dudley would never have to do his homework. Vernon might even be able to save some money when tax season rolled around. The possibilities were endless.

Now, Harry stared at the endless stream of characters filling his screen, carefully selecting what he though were the most important ones.

" – a three-page essay on the Saddagh Quarter of the 1738 Goblin Revolution due next lesson."

Slowly, the students roused themselves and filtered out of the room. Harry sandwiched his laptop between his books and slid it into his satchel. He turned and shook his best friend awake.

"mmwhazzat?"

"Ron, wake up! Hermione's in a bikini."

Ron shot up immediately, causing Harry to grin wickedly. Ron glared.

"Not cool, mate. Not cool!"

"Oh but it was hilarious!"

"Boys! What are you waiting for! Come along!"

One smirking, and the other glaring, the boys followed after their friend.


	2. A Really Unpleasant Potions Class

A/N: And here's the second chapter! Sorry it's short, but I am giving you people four chapters at once! Read and enjoy! And then leave me a review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does.

* * *

"Today, your batches of Veritaserum should have stabilized. We will be testing them in class."

A groan would have echoed across the class, if Snape hadn't been glaring at them. Instead, many students paled, fearful of what they might be forced to reveal. Harry in particular cursed his luck. It was almost guaranteed that Snape would call him to the front as a test subject.

"Potter, you will test Granger's potion."

Of course. Harry looked at Hermione, surprised by the eagerness in her eyes. He had an unpleasant vision of his Uncle, before realizing that Hermione was more concerned about whether her potion worked than what he would reveal.

"To the front, Potter."

As he walked to the front of the class, Harry's mind churned. He could either save Hermione's grade and allow the potion to control him, or he could resist the potion and protect his secrets. Either way, someone would find out that he was not what he seemed.

Snape's eyes glinted maliciously as he poured three drops of the clear liquid on Harry's tongue.

"So tell us, Potter… What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you at school?"

A stifled gasp of outrage ran through the Gryffindors, as the Slytherins looked on with glee.

"With all due respect, Professor, that's something I'd rather not reveal."

Silence reigned as students and teacher alike stared at Harry in shock. Snape was the first to recover.

"Well, well. Will wonders never cease. Hermione Granger make a mistake?

Especially in such a simple potion as this? Five points from Gryffindor, Granger. And five more points for your cheek, Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but the predatory glint in Snape's eyes made him wisely close his mouth. The rest of the period deteriorated from there. Hermione wouldn't look anyone in the eye, Neville melted a cauldron (no one knew how), and Theodore Nott was sent to the Hospital for breaking out in boils. The only thing remotely interesting was Malfoy declaring his undying love for Snape, courtesy of Seamus' potion.

"Since all of you lack the skill necessary, you will write me seven feet on Veritaserum, how to correctly brew it, and the results of incorrectly brewing it, due next Tuesday," Snape snarled.

"Seven feet!" Dean Thomas exclaimed, "Professor, that's-"

"Twelve feet due next class, thanks to Mr. Thomas."

Dean's jaw snapped shut.

"Now get out!"

The class hurried out of the dungeons, leaving Snape to his migraine.


	3. A Slightly Unpleasant Night

A/N: Here's the third chapter! A fair bit of angst ahead, and a bit of a cliffie for good measure. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or am I making any money off of this.

* * *

"… And stir anticlockwise four times…"

Hermione, Ron, and Harry were the only ones still awake, working on their essays. Well, Ron was asleep.

"Hermione, let it go. It's nearing midnight. Get some sleep."

"No! I made that potion right, I know I did!"

"You're still upset about that? Come on, Hermione, everyone slips up sometimes. Look at me, I'm lucky if I get an E on a potion."

"Well, I'm not you! Just because you're incompetent at Potions doesn't mean I am!"

Harry's muscles tensed. /Count to ten. Do not respond, Potter./

"I mean, Snape didn't even test your potion."

"That was because he dropped it when we first turned them in."

Hermione huffed and collected her things, storming off to the girls dormitory.

Harry gently nudged Ron.

"Ron, mate, it's time to head back to the dorm."

The redhead nodded sleepily and lumbered off in search of his bed. Sighing, Harry slowly let out the stress the day had built up. Potions had been a close call. Hermione was mad at him now, and probably would be until she got her next O. He'd best do horribly on the next potion. He also had to make sure Snape didn't suspect him of anything.

Harry went over to the bay window and pulled out his cell phone from the seat.

1 Missed Call. 2 Text Messages.

He flipped it open to see that the missed call was from HSBC. The text messages were from Sirius. Harry lips formed the same half-smile as last night. One of the first things he done when he had arrived at Grimmauld Place was set up a satellite connection and get Sirius a cell phone. The ex-convict was surprisingly good with Muggle technology, but then, he had lived among Muggles for almost a year when on the run, and he had delved into all things Muggle to spite his parents.

The two of them had set up anti-wards – wards that repelled magic – in the third floor of Grimmauld Place. Of course, Sirius had never told anyone that a third floor existed. Sirius tenuous faith in Dumbledore had prompted that action. Harry couldn't have been more relieved when he found someone else who didn't think the Headmaster was omnipotent or omniscient. They both had very good reasons for disliking Dumbledore. They had been abandoned, left to Hellish conditions not even found in nightmares, because the Headmaster had chosen to do what was easy instead of what was right. And when they had overcome those obstacles, the old man had claimed he had always been there for them.

Harry had never fully trusted Dumbledore. It took him all of thirty seconds to realize that if the man knew where he lived, he was the one responsible for putting him with the Dursleys. After the incident with the Mirror of Erised (who puts a deathtrap like that in a school?) and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry's faith in the Headmaster had started on a downward slope. And then there was the basilisk. It wasn't until the summer after Third Year that Harry really started disliking the man. After all, it was in his hands whether Harry got to stay with Sirius or not. It was also up to him to allow Snape to wreak havoc upon the students. Fourth Year found Harry too caught up with everything else to worry about Dumbledore. However, the summer after had given him plenty of time to think. His feelings toward the aging Headmaster had reached an all-time low.

Sirius stopped believing in Dumbledore two days after he was captured. The man had come to see him in prison. Sirius had tried explaining the truth, but the old man's eyes were cold and hard. He ignored everything Sirius had to say, starting the rumor that Sirius had gone insane, and playing the part of the disappointed mentor perfectly. After all, it was easier to leave Sirius in prison – he wasn't anyone important, and he would only be a hindrance in what he had planned for Harry. Sirius had not re-established any trust in Dumbledore after his freedom, because the man almost refused (no, he was more subtle than that) to work to clear his name. While he was fine with being an escaped convict, it was Harry he was concerned about. To his mind, the Dursleys were the human equivalent of Azkaban, and the despised Dumbledore for making his godson return there.

/Kreacher is still being an a. He doesn't understand the meaning of the word compromise, or the word clean. 11:05 a.m./

/Don't forget to take your potion and put on your salve, even if you don't sleep. 9:37 p.m./

Harry stifled a snort at the last message. He remembered the day Sirius found out about his scars. They had just finished the anti-wards. Apparently, they had done their job too well, because they immediately cancelled out Harry's glamours. Sirius caught sight of the scars lining Harry's arm, and demanded an explanation.


	4. Memories Best Left Forgotten

A/N: Cliffie resolved! Yay! Read and review!

Disclaimer: In case you haven't noticed, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. Ahem. That right belongs to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

--FLASHBACK--

"I didn't do them myself, if that's what you're asking."

"So it was your Uncle. And cousin, likely."

Harry stared.

"How would you know that?"

"Lily married my best friend, remember? We always tried to be nice to Petunia for her sake. I was the one who found out Vernon was beating her, but did anyone listen to me? Of course not. Well, James and Lily did, but there wasn't much they could do, with Petunia being such a stubborn woman… Take off your shirt."

Alarm bells started ringing in Harry's brain.

"What!?"

Images of Uncle Vernon and Dudley coming at him flashed through his mind. He forced himself to remember that this was Sirius, not the Dursley males. He couldn't stop his fingers from trembling, though, when he pulled off his shirt.

Sirius turned a calculating eye over the scars.

"Rope… knife… belt buckle… burns… dear Merlin, tell me that wasn't a fork!"

"It was. How… how do you know?"

"Hn."

"Parents, right?"

"Unfortunately. Looks like they stopped after what, Second Year?"

Harry's bitter "I wish" was out before he could stop it. Sirius raised an eyebrow, handing Harry's shirt back to him. The boy fidgeted and replied, "I might have basilisk venom and phoenix tears running through my blood."

Sirius stared. Then he massaged his temples.

"What hasn't happened to you, Harry?"

"I haven't died yet."

Sirius was about to retort when he zeroed in on a scar that looked suspiciously like a bullet wound in Harry's shoulder. His temper, which had been held in check remarkably well until now, exploded.

"THAT BASTARD SHOT YOU?!"

Harry flinched.

"Er, yeah… .22 cailber… lodged safely in my shoulder bone."

"I. Will. Kill. Him."

"No, that's my job. You can have him after I'm done."

Sirius looked at the short boy in front of him. He should have been nearing his own height by now, but he never would, thanks to those as who wouldn't feed him. He should have been angry and bitter, but he was too bloody noble for that. That, and he had a generally cavalier attitude about his life. Who wouldn't, if they knew the only reason they were kept alive was as a tool?

Sirius then did something that surprised them both. He put his hands on Harry's shoulders and drew him into an embrace. Harry stiffened, but then relaxed, resting his head against his godfather's chest. They closed their eyes, and for just a little while, lowered their guards and leaned on each other for support.

--END--

Harry dug beneath his Cloak and found the items Sirius referred to. In truth, they worked miracles. While his nerve damage couldn't be repaired, the potion helped his sore muscles, and the ointment helped with his scars. They would never fade, but at the very least, they wouldn't bother him.

Harry perched himself on the bay window seat, opened his laptop and began typing. He put off hacking the Grunnings website for now. He wanted to look through his History of Magic notes. Ghosts usually stayed on Earth for a purpose, some unfinished business. So why had Professor Binns remained History of Magic teacher for over a century after his death? He couldn't, for any reason, be bound by Dumbledore. Magic didn't affect ghosts that way. It was a puzzle that intrigued him since Second Year.

"So, Professor Binns, What have you got for me today, hmm? Goblin Revolutions, you say? We haven't covered that topic for the past five years at all. Why is it always the Goblin Revolutions? Why not the Vampires? And why are Hermione and myself the only ones who can ever stay awake in your class?"

The sun rose over the horizon long before Harry found any answers.


	5. McGonagall Notices Interesting Students

A/N: Well, the fifth chapter came out sooner than I expected... I love Professor McGonagall! Read and review!

Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter and have made no money from this venture.

* * *

"We will be having a pop quiz this morning," declared Professor McGonagall.

The class groaned. McGonagall gave her students a glare worthy of Snape.

"Since this is a double period, you may have fifteen minutes to study."

Thanking their fortunes and deities, students began frantically looking through their textbooks. Harry wondered idly whether he could pull out his laptop and work, but decided against it. Sirius and his father had barely been able to pass notes in McGonagall's class; he doubted he could hack a corporate website under her watchful gaze.

"Hermione, calm down already! It's not like you've memorized the book cover to cover, or anything. You're the most brilliant witch in our year! You'll be fine."

Hermione stopped fretting and looked at Ron. Her eyes softened. "Thanks, Ron."

"Anytime. Now will you help me study?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and their heads bent over Ron's textbook. Harry suddenly realized someone was watching him intently.

"Mr. Potter perhaps you know the material so well, you don't feel the need to study?"

Harry's eyes widened innocently and he leaned back in his chair to see the Professor beside him. McGonagall felt a sense of déjà vu, and were it not for those two vivid green eyes of his, she would have sworn James was back.

"Professor, is it a written, or a practical test?"

McGonagall's lips twitched. Finally, someone paid attention. McGonagall gave his wand a significant glance and continued on to the next student. She kept an ear attuned to Harry's conversation.

"Hermione, Ron, I think it's going to be a practical examination."

The pair of them ignored him. He contemplated not telling them. Then he nudged them both.

"What?" Hermione snapped, "In case you can't see, we're studying here."

"Yeah mate, you should really crack your book open."

Harry opened his mouth to correct them, but they had already turned back to Ron's textbook. Giving it up as a lost cause, Harry turned longingly to his satchel. Words couldn't describe how much he wanted to pull out his laptop and plunge back into the stream of numbers and letters. He could almost taste the victory. Vernon would be in prison, Petunia would be in rehab, and Dudley would be in a military school, all by the end of the week.

"Your task is to successfully transform this mouse into a teacup and back. Begin."

Harry pretended to cast at his mouse while patiently waiting for Hermione to change hers into a teacup. Meanwhile, he listened to the casters around him. The easiest to pick out was Malfoy. His drawl made difficult for him to cast correctly. Others were putting too much stress on the last syllable, a common mistake brought about by the instinct that putting more emphasis on something aided its progress. Most interesting was Theodore Nott's comment, "Come on, Granger. Hurry up and change the mouse, so the rest of us can start working. Stupid status quo."

Harry's ears picked up the lack of squeaking from Hermione's area. Her mouse was a teacup. A few seconds later, it was a mouse again. Breathing a soft sigh of relief, Harry changed his mouse into a teacup. Unfortunately for him, McGonagall was right behind him and the ease with which he Transfigured the mouse piqued her interest.

"See me after class, Mr. Potter. You too, Mr. Nott."

Both boys stared back at her with incredulous looks mixed with worry. Harry berated himself for letting his guard down like that and relying too much on his anonymity. The Slytherin was doing much the same.

/Brilliant, Potter. You now have Snape and McGonagall both on your tail./

/Brilliant, Nott. You've got the sharpest Professor at Hogwarts on your tail./

* * *

"Which one of you boys would like to explain first why you have been purposefully holding back in my class?"

"Status quo," they replied in unison. They turned and stared at each other incredulously. McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. This was going to be interesting.

"Perhaps Mr. Potter would care to explain?"

"Er…"

Harry's mind churned as he considered how he was going to get out of this mess. He could almost see the possibilities written out for him neatly in C+.

"It's easier to maintain the status quo."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. She had seen the almost feverish light in Harry's eyes as he puzzled out the situation. If that was all he was going to give her, then he was definitely hiding something. She turned to the other boy.

"Do you have anything to add, Mr. Nott?"

He shook his head. He regarded Harry with interest. Perhaps there was more to the Gryffindor than met the eye. In a split second, he had awoken a well-hidden part of his mind. He scoped out Harry, surprised to meet a barrage of zeros and ones. It quickly disappeared, and he realized that it had been pulled back.

Harry fidgeted, and under the pretense of readjusting his satchel, he gestured to the Slytherin to back off. McGonagall didn't miss the slight twitches the boys traded, or the well placed glances.

"I do not tolerate laziness in my classes, boys. I expect better work from you in the future. You are dismissed."


	6. Harry and Theo Have a Chat

A/N: Sixth chapter! This chapter sets most of the groundwork for the story, theory-wise. Read and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does.

* * *

"You're not what you seem, are you, Potter?"

"Not by a long shot, Nott. You're supposed to be dead, aren't you?"

The boys faced each other.

"How do you know?"

"Contrary to what Hermione believes, I do read. Quite a lot, actually. I'm an Anomalite, having broken laws in all four branches of science. And since you managed to completely overshoot my outer wall and hit my firewall, you're one of my Sensers."

"Care to put that in layman's terms?"

Harry chuckled dryly, "Fine, but it means we're spending lunch in the Library."

* * *

"There are four branches of science," Harry explained, "Biology, Chemistry, Physics, and Magic. Biology is the study of life, both animal and plant. Chemistry is the study of the substances that make up the world around us. Alchemy is a deviation of this. Physics is the study of the forces in the world around us, as in what keeps our feet on the ground and why it hurts to punch a wall. Magic, is quite obviously what we're learning here. An Anomalite is a creature, generally human, who breaks laws in all four areas."

"What kind of laws?"

"Laws like you can't use Muggle technology inside Hogwarts. Like humans can't communicate with animals. Like hydrochloric acid will burn skin irreparably. Like you can't be a transmission tower because the radiation and electrical overload will kill you. Those kinds of laws."

"And you're breaking all of them?"

Harry pulled out his laptop and opened Internet Explorer.

"With pride."

"What is a Senser?"

"Someone who defies only one branch of science. Generally, each Anomalite has four Sensers to work with, one for each branch of science."

"So which branch of science am I defying?"

Harry looked at the Slytherin, his eyes unreadable. They were supposed to be enemies, hexing each other on sight. Yet here they were, in the Library, barely three feet away from each other. The next part of the conversation could very well determine both of their futures.

"Your father is a Death Eater. I know because he was laughing at me with Voldemort last June."

"My mother supports him as well. If you're worried I'll follow in their footsteps, rest assured, I won't."

"If you're so quick to turn your back on your parents, how do I know you won't betray me as well?"

Harry leaned back, waiting for that vital piece of information. The Slytherin scowled. He knew what his Gryffindor counterpart was waiting for, and it chagrined him to admit it. He snapped in true Slytherin fashion, "Do you know what Brazilian Fire Ant venom feels like? My father has a dungeon full of the disgusting creatures. He threw me in there for a few days every time I misbehaved. I have no love for the people who sired me. They are not my family."

"Nitric acid… I think I know what kind of Senser you are."

Harry's eyes darkened. "Hydrochloric acid – the fluid inside your stomach that digests food – is one the strongest acids known to man. My beloved Uncle decided it would be fun to see what happened if he stuck my hand into a boiling solution. Chemically speaking, neither of us should exist now. Our flesh should have been destroyed by the acids."

"And yet here we are."

"Here we are."

The boys stared at each other, a fragile bond forming between them. They had suffered unspeakable cruelty and now they might just be allies. Harry pulled a few scraps of paper out of his. He pointed his wand at them and said softly, "Transfiguro null." The papers turned into books.

"Read these when you have time… Theo."

Theo raised an eyebrow and replied, "I will. Thank you… Harry."

* * *

Elsewhere across England, Sirius Black smiled at the message on his computer screen.

/Padfoot,

I found one of my Sensers. Theodore Nott, can you believe it? His branch is Chemistry.

McGonagall and Snape are starting to suspect.

Best,

Lectus/

It was briefer than he would have liked, but with that much encryption on it, the shorter the better. As for McGonagall and Snape, four years was long enough to stay in hiding. Harry needed adults other than himself to trust. While he wasn't on friendly terms with Snape, the man was a genius, and an invaluable ally.


	7. More Potions and More Chats

A/N: More explanations on Harry's character, and a very pissed off Snape! Read and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does. You'd think after this much repetition, people would understand that. Stupid judicial system.

* * *

By the contriving hand of fate, Harry and Theo were both late to Potions the next day. Therefore, they were working together for the entire double period.

"I swear," Harry muttered as he passed Theo a piece of Boomslang skin, "They're putting everything in double periods."

"No joke," Theo replied.

"Stir it anticlockwise one more time. It'll shift the equilibrium towards the products so there'll be more reactive sites for the frog blood."

Theo blinked.

"When you want to speak English…" he muttered as he followed Harry's instructions.

"That's five weeks worth of college chemistry."

Theo simple raised an eyebrow. After a while he commented, "Harry, you haven't once looked at the chalkboard, and yet our potion is doing better than Granger's."

Harry simply chuckled.

"You're the perfect cover, Theo. You consistently get Os on your assignments, therefore, if our potion does well, people will naturally assume it's thanks to you."

"How very Slytherin of you. Out of curiosity, why are hiding your intelligence?"

"Old habits die hard," Harry muttered as he adjusted the temperature of the fire, "Besides, it took me all of three days of school to see that Ron and Hermione weren't ready for a genius amongst them. Unfortunately, now, they aren't ready for me to be a genius amongst them."

"You were willing to throw away that much for their friendship? Actually, only Weasley's. you two didn't get with Granger until after the troll incident."

Harry smiled sadly, and continued working. After a very long time, when Theo was sure he wasn't going to get a response, Harry said softly, "For someone who'd never had friends before, it was an easy mistake to make."

They continued working. Harry set the timer for the three minutes necessary for the potion to stabilize and the boys set about tidying their workspace.

"Why didn't the Hat place you in Ravenclaw, though? It's meant to see things like hidden intelligence in people."

"It suggested it, and I did the mental equivalent of flipping it off."

"So you definitely did belong in Gryffindor. No Slytherin would do something so crude."

"It tried to put me in Slytherin. But there was no way in hell that I was going to put up with Malfoy for the next seven years."

"But why did you reject Ravenclaw? I see no reason for prejudice against them."

"I had already read Hogwarts: A History, and being in Ravenclaw meant that everyone would expect me to be brilliant. That wasn't exactly something I was ready for."

"You could have used it to your advantage. If Snape harassed you in Ravenclaw, everyone would know it was because he hated your father."

Harry considered Theo's statement as the needle on the timer made its last turn.

"I could have, but where's the fun in that?"

Theo rolled his eyes.

"Masochist."

"Keep the ginger root as far away as possible, please. Let's see…"

* * *

Snape looked down at the potion submitted by his only Gryffindor – Slytherin pair. It was near perfect, better than Granger's even. It was almost as good as a batch he could have brewed, its only defect being the inferior quality of the ingredients. He looked down his nose at them, and using the best you-will-not-see-the-light-of-day voice he had, he said, "Potter, stay after class."

Theo smirked. Harry all but groaned out loud. So much for using his free period to catch up on world news and potentially break the system. No, he had to stay and weasel his way out Snape's grasp.

"Why work for the good of humanity when the devil himself is your patron?"


	8. Some Truths Come to Light

A/N: The eighth chapter is the longest chapter yet! Everyone's favorite convict shows up!

Disclaimer: I don't know why I bother anymore. I don't own Harry Potter. I never will.

* * *

When everyone else had left, Snape turned to the young Gryffindor.

"Explain yourself, Potter."

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

And the game was on. Snape sent his Legilimency piercing through Harry's mind, rooting through the memories he found. Harry struggled against his instincts and kept his Occlumency shields down. Unfortunately for Snape, Harry had only kept the lightest, most insignificant memories in his outer wall/field, where Snape was meddling. Everything else, from his Macbook to his suspicions about Professor Binns to his treatment and the hands of his relatives was packed neatly away behind his firewall. Unfortunately for Harry, the technique Snape was employing was the same one that drove Frank and Alice Longbottom to insanity.

No words were spoken between the two. Slowly, Harry sank to his knees, the strain of appearing normal becoming too great. He cursed and his eyes rolled back in his head. He might have heard a woman call out his name; he might have not. His Occlumency shields sprang back to life, knocking the Potions Master back several feet.

Minerva McGonagall had disliked Severus Snape's plan from the start. When she saw Harry fall, she was ready to curse the man, if he hadn't fallen black himself. She dropped by Harry's side, moving to cradle him, but he pushed her away. He was on his knees, clutching his head, grimacing in pain.

Harry closed his eyes and sought out his center. He strengthened his glamours, thanking Merlin that they hadn't come completely undone. With that done, he moved on to his Occlumency shield, rearranging memories here and there, adding a bit more magic where needed to repair the intricate structure he had created. He then turned to his firewall, glad to see it still a stable waterfall of ones and zeros.

The professors saw the lines on Harry's face smooth out as he continued his ministrations. Eventually, he opened his eyes. They were forcibly reminded of Lily Evans, yet it was James who spoke to them.

"I should just hex the both of you now and have done with it."

They were speechless at his tone.

/Or maybe I should hex Sirius. Trust the professors indeed. Oh yes, I'm definitely going to trust someone who breaks into my mind unauthorized./

"Potter, what is going on?"

Harry considered both professors, his internal war not showing on his face.

"To Hell with it, Voldemort's back, what does it matter?"

Harry pulled out his laptop and opened up Internet Explorer. At the same time, he pulled out his cell phone and called Sirius.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Padfoot, this is all your fault, so you can come explain it to them."

"Er… Pup, it's been thirteen years coming."

"…"

"Fine, fine, I'm coming."

Harry turned to his laptop, toggling through his homepage. He was actually quite proud of it. It had almost as good security as the Pentagon. It was also dangerously close to breaking the Statute of Secrecy.

"Read this. I'm going to use your fireplace."

While Snape an McGonagall leaned over Harry's computer screen, Harry waited by the fireplace for Sirius to appear. Said ex-convict tousled Harry's hair as he entered the Potions room. He was dressed in blue jeans and a loose green cotton shirt.

"So have we got here, Pup?"

"This is impossible!" Snape and McGonagall exclaimed.

"No, statistically speaking, it's nearly one-and-a-half times more likely than being struck by the Killing Curse. And given that I've already been hit by the Killing Curse twice… I think you can put two and two together."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry, sneering, "What proof do you have, Potter, that you are … such a creature?"

Sirius returned the glare. Harry rolled his eyed and replied, "I'm running a computer in the middle of Hogwarts Castle. What more proof do you want, sir?"

The word "sir" left a bitter taste in his mouth. Being an Anomalite also made Harry's perception of power and respect different, more so as his Sensers awakened. An Anomalite and its Sensers functioned as a unit, bowing to few people. Much like werewolves and vampires, they regarded themselves as a separate race, which they were. Harry's instincts chafed at having to call someone "sir", a title he would normally bestow upon Lord Merlin, or his Guardian.

As such, the only other person he would call "sir" was Sirius.

"Who are your Sensers? Who is your Guardian?" Snape demanded.

"Severus, please!" McGonagall exclaimed. She continued icily, "You will kindly treat my student with some modicum, however small, of respect."

Snape inclined his head a little towards her, but Harry cut in, "It's alright, Professor McGonagall. Voldemort is extremely skilled at Legilimency, more so than any human has a right to be. Then again, he isn't exactly human. If said monster finds out Snape has shown me anything remotely resembling kindness, he would have his head. That being said, this is a highly insinuating conversation, isn't it?"

"I'm sure I can manage," the Potions Master ground out.

"As to my Sensers and Guardian, I'm not entirely inclined to reveal that information to you."

"Harry," Sirius chided, gently cuffing him.

"Fine, fine… The only Senser I've found so far is Theodore Nott, branch Chemistry. And my Guardian is standing behind me."

Both pairs of eyes flicked to Sirius, who had one hand on Harry's shoulder and the other in his hair. A smirk graced his lips, but his eyes shone with a fierce protectiveness. His wand, the Professors were sure, lay safely holstered to his arm, hidden by his sleeves. It struck Snape as odd that Harry would be so short when both his parents were as tall as Sirius.

"We should let the Headmaster know immediately," McGonagall declared.

In one smooth motion, Harry and Sirius pointed their wands at the Professors.

"We will Obliviate you if so much as a rumor of this reaches Dumbledore."

"What!"

The Professors leaped up and soon their wands were out as well.

"How dare you! The Headmaster –"

"Is a manipulative old coot. I don't want him anywhere near me."

"This is ridiculous! Very well, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black. If you wish this to be kept secret from the Headmaster, it shall be so," McGonagall said as she stowed her wand. Snape stared at her incredulously. She retorted, "You can drop the façade, Severus. None of us in this room have that great a love for Albus."

Snape scowled and stowed his wand as well. As if on cue, the party began to scatter: McGonagall to her classroom, Sirius to Grimmauld Place, and Harry to his next class. Snape looked over is essays, but his mind churned over the enigma that was Harry Potter. Honestly, did the boy need more reason to think himself special? Pampered and petted, he was probably treated like a prince, the oh-so-special Boy-Who-Lived. Gods, he hated the Potters.


	9. The Slightly Pointless Filler Chapter

A/N: The ninth chapter is now the shortest one yet. Interesting how that works, isn't it? As per the title, this is a bit of a filler chapter. I wasn't happy about it, but it had to be done.

Disclaimer: I don't own or make money off of anything Harry Potter related. Including this fanfic.

* * *

"HSBC Headquarters, Marie Davidson speaking."

"Marie, this is Harry Potter."

"Oh, good afternoon, Harry! Let me put you through to Mr. Garon."

"…"

"Lord Potter. How may I be of assistance?"

"To my knowledge, G'ron, it was you who called me two days prior."

"Ah yes. The asset report you requested has come in."

"Including my Gringotts accounts?"

"Oh yes. My brother Griphook was kind enough to take care of it."

"Very well. Please have them sent to 12 Grimmauld Place as soon as soon as possible. If it's not too much trouble, please send the Black asset report there as well."

"It shall be done."

"Thank you very much. May your riches forever grow."

"And yours, Lord Potter."

* * *

Sirius looked at the two packets in his hand. One was labeled "Potter Assets" and was about fifteen pages thick. The other was labeled "Black Assets" and was perhaps two pages less. He sighed. Trust Harry to make him work. Well, as the Head of the House of Black, he did have responsibilities. Since he was going to be cooped up in Grimmauld Place, he might as well manage his estates.

"I am not looking forward to this."

* * *

Later that night, Harry face broke out into a triumphant grin. He had successfully broken the system. Now all he had to do was upload his virus and a few videos…

"No! Dammit!"

/Virus found. Deleting virus. Virus deleted. Rebuilding Norton firewall./

"Damn! I hate Norton! Uncle Vernon might actually have a few brain cells… I'll bet he grew suspicious over the summer because I spent so much time working on the Grunnings website."

Harry cursed again.

"Damn, I can't believe I fell for something so… stupid!"

That was a solid year's worth of work down the toilet. His eyes brimmed with tears of frustration. He couldn't save his aunt. Not for another year. He'd have to keep working through the night, putting Professor Binns on a back burner, maybe even his Sensers. On top of this, he still had Voldemort to deal with… Damn it all.

Harry was not in a good mood for the rest of the week. Ron and Hermione were put off by his cold demeanor. Of course, they had been spending a lot of time together anyway… Even Malfoy was perturbed. It seemed the only person not bothered by Harry's attitude was Theodore Nott.

So it seemed.


	10. Another Really Unpleasant Potions Class

A/N: Yippee! Another long-ish chapter! Read, enjoy, and don't forget to leave me a review!

I have just realized that I have not given explanations for some the syntax I use. Please forgive me.

/insert word here/ private thoughts, text, or letters.

'insert word here' telepathy

"insert word here" normal speech

Parseltongue hasn't come into the picture yet, but I'll make a note when it does.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Go bug Rowling.

* * *

"Potter, Longbottom, you will be working together. You will be testing Granger and Weasley's potion. They will be testing yours, so try not to poison them."

Harry emitted the kind of noise a trapped, wounded animal makes when faced with its captor. Neville looked at him sidelong but held his peace. A part of him wanted to ask Harry what was wrong, but was also compassionate enough to understand that it wasn't his place. This part was why the Sorting Hat considered him for Hufflepuff. Another part of him wanted to ask Harry what was wrong and believed that the consequences could be damned, Harry shouldn't keep things bottled up. This part of him was the reason he was in Gryffindor.

It so happened that being in close proximity with an Anomalite for ten minutes was enough to rouse a part of Neville that happily pushed his Hufflepuff side off a cliff. Like an ant using its feelers to find another ant, Neville was subconsciously (for the most part) reaching out to Harry with his mind.

It was this light touch that made Harry stop what he was doing and pay attention to what his partner was doing. Harry realized that Neville always looked like he was in a cemetery when in Potions class. He put a hand out to stop Neville, his expression clearly saying, "Your little charade ends here." Neville sent back a defiant glare that said, "I don't know what you're talking about." Harry replied with a raised eyebrow and a look that clearly said, "I can see right through you."

Harry decided to make use of the traits that had landed him in Gryffindor. He said bluntly, "You can communicate with plants. Ergo, a Potions class, with lots of dead plants is like a cemetery for you."

Neville stared at Harry, gobsmacked. He became aware of that dormant part of his mind which was now actively seeking Harry's. He nodded.

"I couldn't stand it at all First Year. Scared the dickens out of me. It got better over the years, but by then I had a reputation as the bumbling Potions idiot. Who was I to disturb the status quo?"

Harry grinned, somewhat ferally. He said softly, "Hey Nev, what say we shake things up a little?"

Neville looked uncertainly into Harry's eyes. It was then that he hit a waterfall of zeros and ones, and having slipped through them, found a deluge of information filling his head. Harry chuckled, 'I should have done that with Theo.'

'Theo… Theodore Nott, a Senser… Like me? Ye gods, Harry, this is a lot to take in. But it make sense…'

'So what say? You with me?'

Harry's question had a hidden meaning. He wasn't just asking if Neville wanted to reveal his hidden talents at potion-brewing, he wanted to see if Neville would stand by him as a Senser.

'All the way, mate.'

Severus Snape kept an eye on Harry and his partner throughout the entire lesson. He felt sure he was developing a migraine when he saw the two boys stare at each other for five minutes straight. In fact, neither boy had said a word to the other all lesson. They seemed to be making do with gestures, yet, even those were no more than what accompanied a normal conversation. He got the feeling he was missing something. Something big.

"Time's up. Hand in your potions."

Harry and Neville's grins were only slightly perturbing. Snape glared at them and took their potion. He nearly faltered when he saw the clear green liquid. It was a bright vivid green, the color of his best friend's – now dead – eyes. It was the reason he loved brewing this particular sleeping draught. Even Granger and Weasley's was more than three shades too dark. But this… This simply wasn't possible.

"See me after class. Both of you."

It was all Harry could do not to laugh. Neville traded potions with Hermione, who was glaring at them evilly. Snape however, had other ideas.

"No, Potter, you will be testing the potion."

Harry stiffened. He was severely allergic to belix root, a key component of most sleeping potions. However, since he had taken sleeping potions before and not died of it, he had realized that he was only allergic to the root in its pure form. By the darker shade of the potion, he knew that Hermione and Ron had put too much in, which meant that was some pure root particles left over in the mix.

"Sir, I'm al-"

"Now, Potter."

Cursing his luck Harry gulped down the potion. He dropped the vial, his eyes rolling back in his head. There was complete and utter silence as Harry's convulsing body fell to the ground. Neville's eyes darted across the room, searching. A part of him was aware that Theodore Nott was beside him, holding Harry, but mostly, he was searching for an antidote – there! He grabbed three leaves from Hermione's potion kit, resisting the urge to slap her when she protested. Before Snape could move, Theo forced Harry's mouth open and Neville pressed the leaves onto his tongue. They dissolved instantly.

Harry stiffened, sat up, and vomited his breakfast, lunch, and the potion. When he was done, albeit with a world-class migraine, he said hoarsely to Hermione, "You put too much belix root in."

"Twenty points to Slytherin for cool thinking, Mr. Nott. Please see me after class. Granger, I believe you were about to test Potter and Longbottom's potion. Oh, and ten points from Gryffindor for trying to poison Mr. Potter. I did specifically tell you not to poison each other."

Hermione scowled and gulped down the potion. Her muscles relaxed. Her eyelids drooped and she fell into a light slumber, her head on Ron's shoulder. Harry smiled at the sight, carefully angling his cell phone (which had a camera on it) so that Snape couldn't see, and took a picture. Ron looked to Snape for the antidote, but he had already turned to the next two groups.

"Oi, aren't you going to give her an antidote?"

"The potion will wear off in twenty minutes, Weasley. I see no reason to waste my antidote."

Ron glared.

"I suggest you enjoy the moment while you can. It's unlikely that this will happen again before you're twenty."

Ron stared after him, embarrassed and slightly bewildered, while Harry, Neville, and Theo looked in other directions and coughed into their hands.


	11. A Not So Pointless Filler Chapter

A/N: A nice, medium-sized chapter for you all. Read, enjoy, and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does, the blessed lady.

* * *

"Status quo."

Snape rubbed his temples as the three boys replied in unison. Of course they were going to say that. Not disrupting the status quo was their excuse for everything. McGonagall simply shook her head.

"So Mr. Longbottom is another of your Sensers, then?"

Harry nodded.

"How is it that you and Longbottom went a entire double period without talking, Potter?"

Harry and Neville looked at each other in confusion. Harry's eyes widened.

"Plants don't have larynxes…"

Theo snorted, "Telepathy. Brilliant."

In an instant, Neville and Harry were forming links to Theo's mind. The Slytherin blinked when the deluge of information stopped.

'Ow… I don't need a migraine just yet, thank you.'

'I love how most of this is instinctual.'

'Absolutely.'

Snape eventually snapped, "Do you three intend to stare at each other all day?"

The boys grinned. Theo replied, "Sorry, Professors, we were just a bit lost in thought, is all."

McGonagall hadn't taught the Marauders for seven years for nothing. She knew the boys were hiding something. Their stances and that mischievous glint in their eyes definitely said so. Well, boys would be boys. Despite what Severus said, they really didn't need to keep the boys any longer.

"Very well. If there's nothing else, boys, enjoy your afternoon."

The three boys were only too glad to escape the piercing gazes of their teachers. They settled happily in the library around Harry's laptop. While Harry was typing a message to Sirius, Neville and Theo were sorting out their differences. Telepathically, of course.

'I guess Slytherin's not all bad.'

'We're not meant to be evil. Just ambitious.'

'You seem like an alright bloke.'

'I don't think we've ever actually spoken to each other before, have we?'

'No. Funny, isn't it?'

'No joke. But I'm glad.'

'Yeah, it'll be nice getting to know you… Theo.'

'Likewise… Nev.'

Harry chuckled to himself. Against all odds, things were looking up.

* * *

/Padfoot,

I found another Senser – Neville Longbottom. He and Theo are getting on pretty well.

We've formed a telepathic connection amongst the three of us.

Keep working on your assets. I'll handle mine come Christmas.

Best,

Lectus/

* * *

The weeks leading up to Christmas passed without event. Ron and Hermione drew further away from Harry and closer to each other. Harry, in turn, spent more time with Neville and Theo. The school noted that the three virtually stopped talking, except to their teachers, yet they seemed the best of friends.

The boys had a lot in common. They had all grown up without the love of a parent. Even Neville came from an emotionally abusive background. They could relate to each other very well, and their senses of humor were almost identical. Both Theo and Neville had taken to Sirius, once they got past the convicted felon business.

* * *

One day, Harry and Theo found themselves about Draco Malfoy. Neville was talking to Professor Sprout.

'He knows what it's like, you know. Lucius Malfoy is not a kind father.'

'His mother dotes on him, though. He's always had someone to turn to.'

'True. Even if his father beats him, his mother almost immediately heals the wounds.'

'I suppose he does understand, somewhat. He knows fear. But, he doesn't know desolation.'

'Like we do.'

'Exactly. He's more the type to expect everyone's sympathy because of what he's been through. He'll just lap it up.'

'As opposed to us, who turn a cynical eye onto everything.'

'You make that sound like a bad thing.'


	12. The First Battle of the Year

A/N: Chapter 12 is here! This chapter is by far the most important yet! Read, review and enjoy!

Disclaimer: i do not own Harry Potter. I wish I did, but instead, J. K. Rowling does.

* * *

Finally, the last day of term arrived. Trunks were packed, kisses were exchanged under mistletoe, presents and last-minute cards were given – in short, the school was a healthy chaotic mess. Harry dug through his possessions for a jacket to combat the snow outside before remembering that Dudley had torn it up that summer.

"Troublesome. Well, a little snow never hurt anyone."

Down at the train station, Harry, Neville, and Theo said their goodbyes to each other and headed to separate carriages. Harry ended up in the same compartment as Ron and Hermione (when they weren't making rounds), who steadfastly ignored his presence. He wasn't bothered much; he just wished he could work on his coding. However, he couldn't risk pulling out his laptop in front of them.

Malfoy stopped by and traded words with Ron, as was expected. Harry was decidedly un-Gryffindor-ish and ignored the pale boy. This apparently ticked of Ron and Hermione even further.

"Oi, Harry! Are you just going to sit there staring out the window?"

"Cat got your tongue, Potter? Or maybe you're just scared."

Harry really wanted to tell Malfoy that his continued attempts at goading them by slandering their families only reflected his insecurities about his own family. In addition, every attempt at bravado simply revealed his own fearful nature, and anyone falling for his tricks was either patronizing him, or a complete moron. He really wanted to, but he didn't.

Because a horde of Death Eaters attacked the carriage.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Soreccus retunus!"

Harry's wand shot towards the Death Eaters with enough force that it tore a hole in his robes. He heard muffled screams from his Petrified companions. They had been holding their wands at the time. Their fingers were likely broken.

"Well, this was considerably easier than expected. Dolohov, bind them. The Dark Lord will be very pleased."

One of the Death Eaters stepped forward. Vines shot out of his wand and bound the four students together. Beneath his mask, he grinned maliciously. Another Death Eater, this time female, pointed her wand at the bundle of teens.

"Portus."

The creation and use of human portkeys was banned by the ICW upon its first occurrence. The pain caused to the victim is said to rival that of the Cruciatus Curse and leave the victim paralyzed.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy could easily attest to that. They felt as if fire coursed through their veins instead of blood. Agony upon unending agony… Blessed Merlin, they just wanted it to end!

They dropped onto the cold cobblestone floor with a thud, waves of pain washing over them. A high, cold, voice cast, "Finite incantatem."

An eon seemed to pass before the pain started to dim. Slowly, painfully, they rolled off each other and began to pick themselves up. Harry was the first one standing. His breath came in short, ragged gasps as he said, "Stay down… I'll take care of this."

Voldemort laughed. "Really, Potter? Do you honestly believe you can do anything in your condition? Crucio!"

Harry screamed as white hot knives tore through his body. Blood splattered his chin as his body rebelled against the curse. He rasped, "Is that… the best… you've got…?"

Scowling, Voldemort intensified the curse. Harry's screams rose in pitch and volume; his convulsions become more violent. After about five minutes of watching Harry writhe under torture, Voldemort cancelled the curse. Harry dropped to the ground, barely conscious. His mind barely registered that Voldemort's robes (and therefore Voldemort) were approaching. Voldemort kicked his chest, forcing him to roll over.

"Interesting… you can somewhat resist my curse. But can your friends? Hmm… perhaps the Mudblood girl… Crucio!"

Hermione screamed as pain coursed through her body.

"Stop it!" Ron yelled.

Voldemort turned to him.

"Weasley, is it not? Such a fine pureblood. What a pity you had to follow in the ways of your filthy blood traitor parents."

"Stay… away… from… me…" Ron choked out, trying to scramble backwards.

Malfoy searched the room wildly. He was the son of Lucius Malfoy! They wouldn't – couldn't – hurt him! His eye fell on a man standing behind Voldemort. Relief seeped through his broken body.

"Father! It's me, Draco! Your son! Please –"

"Silence! You are no son of mine. How dare you consort with filth like these! Crucio!"

Lucius Malfoy cast the Cruciatus Curse on his son without any hesitation. After about three minutes, Voldemort said disinterestedly, "Lucius, calm down."

He cancelled the curse. The smallest of whimpers escaped the boy before he fell still. Ron and Hermione fell back in shock and horror. Hermione whispered, "How-how could you? He's your son!"

Ron growled what could have most likely been the word "bastard".

/Get up, Potter. You have people to protect!/

"This tires me," Voldemort sneered, "Let's move on to the main event. Soreccus nullix!"

White light shot out of Voldemort's wand and wrapped itself around the four of them. The light burned at their skin, as if it was trying to draw out their blood. Harry vaguely remebered a text he had read once about the dangers of anhydrous ammonia. The light then returned to Voldemort's wand. The megalomaniac simply laughed derisively.

Something clicked in tired Harry's mind. What was he doing? He had Sensers now, and a Guardian! He could call on them for help!

'Neville! Theo! Sirius! Can you hear me?'

There was no answer.

/Damn. I'm too weak, and too far away!/

He struggled to push himself up. It hurt to breathe. His wand, he needed his wand! Wand… his Magic… NO!

"Damn," Harry moaned, "Bastard… bound… our… Magic…"

Voldemort laughed, "Very clever, Potter. I didn't expect you to recognize such an old Dark spell. But it won't help you now. Nothing will."

"Fuck… off…"

The Death Eaters encircled them, wands at the ready. Harry cursed. They weren't all going to, were they? No, it couldn't end like this! He hadn't found all his Sensers! Voldemort couldn't win! He wouldn't let that happen!

"Avada…"

/No! Please, Lord Merlin, it can't end this way!/

"Kedavra!"

'Nev… Theo… Sirius… I'm so sorry… Goodbye.'

Green light met with silver. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy glowed brightly. Their ravaged throats could barely managed a frightened whimper before the light exploded around them. It vanished abruptly. The Death Eaters' breaths caught in their throats and Voldemort screamed in rage.

The four students were gone.


	13. Treating Wounds

A/N: Thirteenth chapter... wonder if it's unlucky? As a head's up, I know NOTHING about first-aid, and I was too lazy when I wrote this to hunt down the proper treatment for the injuries listed in this chapter. I believe the situation calls for 'willful suspension of disbelief'.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does.

* * *

Harry awoke surrounded by grey. All around him was a vast, unending… grey.

'Harry.'

He spun around. Upon seeing the figure who called him, he dropped to his knees and bowed.

'Lord Merlin.'

'It is not time for you to join me yet, son.'

Harry stood up.

'Did you… was it you who saved us? What was that light? More importantly, where am I?'

Merlin chuckled, 'You have been here many times, my boy. Once or twice a year, I should think.'

'Oh… so this is the Boundary between Life and Death.'

'I cannot let you pass, Harry. Go back to the others.'

The figure began to fade.

'Lord Merlin, wait! What was that light? How-"

Harry was alone in the grayness again.

'-do I go back?'

* * *

Harry opened his eyes, and immediately wished he hadn't. He had an enormous migraine, and his entire body throbbed with pain. With a groan, he pushed himself to a sitting position. The world swam before his eyes.

/Focus, Potter. You've had summers worse than this. Get it together you idiot!/

Harry forced himself to concentrate and check for damage. No bruises, cuts, but there was some definite spell damage. He also had a fractured sternum, three cracked ribs, and another one dislocated. He looked around. He was in the middle of an evergreen forest. Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy were lying beside him, slowly rousing themselves.

"What happened?"

Malfoy leaned against a tree, his face tight with pain. He cradled the hand with the broken fingers gently. Harry shrugged and stood up weakly.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Ron? Hermione? Are you alright?"

Two quiet groans were his only response. He dropped back to his knees between them. Hermione was curled up in a ball, holding her fingers close. Tears leaked out her eyes as she whimpered softly. Ron was hissing, breathing heavily though his teeth were clenched. A quick scan told Harry that the only things wrong with them were their fingers (thankfully, they were only dislocated) and spell damage.

"Come on, sit up."

"Easy for you to say… You don't have any broken fingers!" Hermione shrieked.

/You don't have a fractured sternum, three cracked ribs, and another one dislocated. Speaking of which, I need to be careful that I don't puncture a lung./

Regardless, Harry helped her and Ron sit up, propping them up against the tree, right beside Malfoy. Against the sounds o their laboured breathing, he set to work. First, he tore the sleeves off his shirt. Next, he rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a small jackknife. He sliced the fabric into several thin strips. Laying those aside, he gazed at the pine needles carpeting the forest floor. He gathered up a bundle of the softer, greener needles and wrapped then with some of the strips of fabric. He then broke off a branch from the nearest tree.

By now, the three others were taking an interest in him. His jackknife wasn't the best instrument for what he had planned, but it would have to do. Wood chippings fell to the ground, one after the other. Soon, Harry had several thin rectangular slabs in his hand. He knelt in front of Hermione.

"Give me your hand. The one with the wounded fingers. Bite on this."

The braniac shied away from the bundle Harry offered her. He sighed, "I know it's not sterile, but we're in the middle of a forest, we have no idea where we are, we have no idea what time it is, and we have no idea how to get out. So unless you're secretly a masochist, please, give me your hand, and bite on this."

"Don't you call me a masochist! How could you think I'm that twisted!"

/Because you're too easily depressed if you don't get a perfect score. At the very least, you have masochistic tendencies./

Hermione put the bundle in her mouth and Harry took her hand.

"This'll hurt."

With a quick, sharp push, Harry snapped one finger back into place. Hermione's scream came out as a muffled whine. Harry had the feeling she had torn through at least two layers of fabric and was very grateful that he had wrapped three layers around the pine needles. Hermione fainted when he pushed in the second finger. He finished quickly, setting the bones with the splints and more slices of fabric.

When he was done, he took the bundle out of Hermione's mouth. She had actually torn through all three layers. He took off the topmost layer and wrapped a new strip of fabric around the bundle. He turned to Ron.

"What did you do to Hermione!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"She has a low pain threshold. She just fainted, Ron. Bite on this and give me your hand."

Ron glared back belligerently.

"Now, Ron. I might not use force on her, but I will on you."

In a flash, Harry had grabbed Ron's injured hand, forcing the redhead to open his mouth in pain. This allowed Harry to shove the bundle into Ron's mouth. With swift, controlled movements, Harry set to work on Ron's hand. Ron fainted immediately. Well, that just made Harry's job easier.

When he was done, he took the bundle out of Ron's mouth, grimacing. Ron obviously salivated more than Hermione. Two layers were wet, and he only had two more strips of fabric. He unwound the wet layers and replaced them with dry fabric.

Draco watched this with a sinking heart. He was foolish to have believed that Potter would have cut the extra strips to mend his fingers as well. After all, Potter was a bloody Gryffindor. He wouldn't help a Slytherin. Damn, his fingers hurt so much. Then he heard the tear of fabric.

Harry tore material along the hem of his shirt. He turned to Malfoy.

"Are you going to put up a fight as well?"

The stunned boy simply shook his head. Harry gave him the bundle and took his hand. Surprisingly, the Slytherin only grunted, though sweat poured off his brow. But then, he'd have to have a very high pain threshold to have survived this long. Harry finished his work quickly. He looked up into Malfoy's face, something close to compassion in his eyes.

"It's better if you rest now. Save your strength for when we actually need to move."

"… Potter… Why are you doing this? We're enemies!"

Harry's expression remained neutral. He replied, "Malfoy, out here, you're just as weak as helpless as the rest of us. In fact, I have an advantage over you: I know how to survive without Magic. Personally, I'd be happy if we all made it out alive. Now go to sleep."

The pale boy's eyelids dropped as his body complied with Harry's wishes. The last thought he remembered having was how different Harry was from anyone else he knew…


	14. Ron, Hermione, and Draco Have a Chat

A/N: Pretty short chappie here. This is sort of a goodbye present. I'm putting everything on a minimum of a two-week hiatus. I have relatives from across the pond (England) coming over, and I need to devote my full attention to them. This is just a bit of an expository chapter, but please enjoy!

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I do not.

* * *

When Harry was sure all three were asleep, he leaned back and let the pain he was feeling show on his face. He had a strong feeling his rib had indeed punctured his lung. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. If he didn't get to a doctor soon… Well, he wasn't going to die except at the hands of Voldemort, so he might as well get up and do something productive.

When the others woke up, they found themselves on beds of leaves (which were surprisingly soft) beside a crackling fire. Harry held three sticks over the fire, each with a few small round objects at the end. Hermione asked suspiciously, "What's that?"

"Chestnuts. Your dinner."

He handed the sticks to them.

"Hold these over the fire for a few more minutes. Watch the camp. If anyone comes, hide in the trees. If that fails, yell as loud as you can, and I'll come back."

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To hunt, what else? And to find water, and possibly help. That is, unless you'd all rather die within the week."

He took advantage of their stunned expressions and melted into the shadows.

* * *

"He's really changed," Ron commented.

"It's like he's someone else completely," Hermione agreed.

"Really? He doesn't seem that much different to me. Just more serious," Draco replied.

"What are you talking about?"

"You barely know him!"

Draco nodded, staring into the fire.

"True…"

/But I stand by what I said. His eyes are always calculating, sometimes it's like he can see right through you. He's got more power than most of Hogwarts put together, but only the few of us who've actually seen him angry know it. When they turn their backs, his demeanor changes completely… Just who are you, Harry Potter?/

"It's all that Slytherin's fault."

Draco broke out of his reverie at Ron's comment.

"Who?"

"Theodore Nott, the one Harry's been hanging around so much."

"Yeah, the squinty-eyed one."

"Nott... doesn't have squinty eyes."

Ron grunted.

"Besides, Longbottom's been hanging around the both of them as well."

"What are you saying, ferret?"

"Nothing, Weasel. Just eat your dinner."

"Why you slimy-"

"Ron," Hermione interrupted, "Let it go. We need to work together if we're going to survive."

The three of them settled into an uneasy silence.


	15. Adoption

Hello, everyone!

My good friend (and twin) Shinmoto Amaya has decided to adopt this fic. She a very talented writer, though she writes slash where I write heterosexual pairings. I look forward to seeing where she will take Status Quo. Thank you all for sticking with me!

Sincerely,

Arithnocrat

P.S. - If you're reading any of my other fics, they're still going strong.


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